Curing my Fixation
by Dante Androsso
Summary: As the title suggests, these are little ficlets for curing my fixation for the man everyone loves to hate on. I honestly find him almost more fascinating than the classic version. Funny, huh? Anyways, read at your own risk; review if you so wish. Heh, that almost rhymed. Some (if not mostly) mature content. Enjoy! Maaaybe more to come?


The moment he woke up, the brunet male realized three things. One happened to be the fact that arms were trapped somehow above his head, making useage of his hands almost impossible. He also noticed, in addition, that his legs were also bound down somehow by some unyielding force that not even his demonic strength could managed to break. It made things difficult to try and assess where he actually was, which lead to the second thing.

The second happened to be that he was no longer where he last remembered himself to be. Instead of the grungy, little trailer he had, he found himself to be in an amazingly-freakishly, even-clean, black and white room. Or so his peripheral vision lead him to believe. The bed itself was white, minus a few of the decorative pillows. The curtains, as far as he could tell, were black lace, contrasting with the white walls and dampening the sharp sunlight that drifted through the glass. There was a darkly stained door at the room's opposite end, probably either a closet or the exit that he needed to get out through, a black and white rug in front of that. It was warm in the room, despite the third thing he noticed.

He was stark naked against the soft, plush blankets that were spread out on the bed. Which weren't the only things spread out. Normally, if he had an explanation to the whole ordeal, it wouldn't have bothered him so much. But the fact was, he had no idea how he ended up where he was unless... He tried to remember what had gone wrong the night before. The club he had managed to get into seemed promising for a little treat to take back to the home sweet home. He remembered making his way around the club, checking out the who's who dancing and writhing for their own entertainment and the entertainment of the clientele. After that, things grew fuzzy, as though he had taken LSD or something. Not that he had ever tried LSD, but he had heard stories of what it could do to a person.

It was a few moments of wracking his brain for more of what had gone on last night when someone entered the door. A very generic looking person in the eyes of the young Nephilim. But as they, let's be honest, he couldn't tell if it was a chick, a dude or some strange combination of the two, walked to the bed, he said, "I don't suppose you're here to undo the bonds, right?" When no answer was received, just a steady pace towards the bed, the male nodded. "Right. I-Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" He tried to move his head away from the person, as something dark impaired his vision, making it difficult if not impossible to see the room around him. He didn't like where this was going and he wanted out of there now before he could find out the reason behind the jack hole who blinded him with the whatever the hell it was over his eyes.

"It seems you've awoken before we anticipated," a voice that drifted like silk through the air replied. "A shame you had to see my personal assistant, but the situation forced it."

Somehow, the voice grated and caressed his ears in a familiar fashion, as though he had heard it before that time. Something that should have been at the forefront of his mind was a hazy, dream like experience that he couldn't recall no matter how he tried. But he had a feeling he knew, from his own positioning, what the creep wanted. "No shit, Sherlock," he responded. "So you gonna get the show on the road or am I just gonna spend a few days spread eagle for the amusement of the sick fucks you call friends?" There was a smirk on his own face as he could practically hear the smug look of the man fall off. "Aw?" he faked sympathy, "Did I just piss you off?" He paused, though didn't wait for a response; there was no response. "Fan-fucking-tastic."

"It's cheeky brats like you that make things very difficult," the man replied and he was certain to make the young male regret pissing him off last night and right then.

Before the bound punk knew it, there was a shift in the bed and a sudden weight on his torso. The sound of rustling cloth and metallic zipping signaled that the party was just getting started. "Fucking fina-" he gagged on the last of the word as he gagged on the man's dick as it was shoved roughly down his throat. A hand made it clear that he wasn't going anywhere, iron like grip tangled in the longer hair on the back of the bound male's head.

"What was that?" the man above him taunted as he began thrusting in and out of the younger's mouth. "I couldn't hear you with your mouth full, Dante." The man chuckled as he practically pulled completely out of the wet mouth of the half breed before pressing harshly back in, causing more gags and gasps from the bound male; the feel of the younger gagging around the sensitized flesh only serving to spur him on more.

If he had known what would have happened, as the man continued to thrust down his throat, the younger known as Dante might have wanted it. If the guy asked nicely and was pretty damn decent looking, that was. Breathing was difficult with a cock down his throat, but after a while, he managed to time quick, shallow gasps of air with the man slamming into his mouth. Something about the bastard said literal quickie before thick liquids were sent pouring down into him, forcing him to swallow the nasty, salty taste down, but proving his assumptions right. The bound male coughed as fresh air entered his lungs in gasps once the meat stick was pulled out.

Pulling out of the smart mouth proved to be a mistake as the younger male quipped, "Are you serious? That was a face fucking? That wasn't worth my time. For one, you had to be pretty unfuckable to cum that early and, two, you taste like shit."

Moving lower on the younger's stretched out torso, the man was bound and determined to make the kid eat his words and then some. Before the kid knew what was happening, there were some very smooth hands playing at the skin of the younger's chest and throat, encircling it with one hand, the slightest pressure placed on there to impair the other's breathing but not cut it off completely. The other hand began pinching and rolling about the hardening nipple between silky fingers. At first the younger acted as though it had no effect on him, but as time wore on, the sensations were beginning to go straight down, sending blood flow with it. "Almost like a woman," the man commented at the arousal his prisoner began showing. "It's almost amazing how sensitive your skin can become."

"Shove it" was the snarky remark. He might have been feeling the beginnings of something, but that didn't mean that the demon hunter couldn't bite back, if only verbally. It was a losing battle, fighting off the sensations that could cause the unraveling of his bravado. It was him against his body and all those lovely chemical signals and hormones going crazy for the touches. Despite knowing this, he still fought back and would until the last stand.

The remark caused the rapist to laugh. "Only you would suggest something like that at a time such as this," he remarked, moving off the lithe body, though the hand still worked at his chest and other places that had become sensitized with the sexual tension churning within. The other hand was thankfully removed from his throat, though it was gone for only a few moments, reappearing down beneath the hardening flesh of his own dick just below his balls, pressing against their base in a massaging motion. With the attention, it wasn't long before the kid's south was fully awake and standing. He wasn't as far gone as to make any noises indicating that his body was reacting, feeling he didn't really need to. But the fact that his vision was cut off had also began his adrenaline running, causing the arousal to be that more intense.

"You call this rape?" Dante asked, all his fire still there, though his voice had the barest hints of shakiness to it. "I thought rape was a little more active than this. I'm about ready to fall asleep."

"Really?" the man above him said, the sound of his voice getting louder. A sudden bite to the nub that wasn't being played with sent shivers of the unwanted pleasure coursing through the bound male, leaving him gasping at the suddenness. "Your body must be far more honest; you're positively dripping." There was tongue and teeth added to the fingers playing with both his chest and his groin, making the younger pant with the forced desire. "I am going to make you regret your words." Another harsh bite was given to the chest.

"Ah!" was the gasped reply. Teeth had broken the skin; Dante could feel the sting of the air as soon as the mouth was lifted; the feeling of blood ebbing from the tiny wounds made him aware that the bite had been rather deep, making him more aware of the situation.

"I am going to make you regret your smart mouth." The fingers down south smoothed over the erection, gathering the wetness that began running down, feathering up the underside teasingly. The man earned a groan from the bound and blind victim. "Now your mouth is being as honest as the rest of you." The fingers swirled around the tip, playing in the precum that leaked from his body. "And I am going to make you regret not joining my side."

Wait... what? Before he could voice any questions, the fingers at his dick went south and one of them pressed against the yielding flesh of his ass, pushing itself inside, searching for the younger's prostate. "The best torture," the man explained, "is slow, lingering in its sadism, leaving deep wounds in its victims memories. Plan on it happening now." The finger pulsed inside Dante, pressing in and out of the bound body, finding the intended target and exploiting it to no end. It was such a pleasure to see the young fighter writhe in utter sexual tension with no end in sight. The lovely little gasps and groans and fuck you's coming from his mouth were like honey to the man's ears as he added a second finger to the first, moving them in and out just the same as before. Then a third was added, then a fourth until the inevitable signs of approaching climax were felt, muscle tensing around the fingers dancing inside the body. Even the sound of the younger male's voice said the end was near. And the man stopped completely, pulling the fingers out quickly, letting the feeling of impending orgasm subside in the dark haired male. It left him gasping for air. The procedure was then repeated four or five times more, though the same number of fingers remained the same. And every time, orgasm was denied.

A shaky laugh was given when the petting torture was done. "You still suck at the rapist thing," Dante replied, his rebellion still at its all time high. He opened his mouth to say more, but the words were cut off by the feeling of being filled by something far bigger than four fingers, a soft grunt of pain in reply. "You're a real dick bag, you know that, right?" the younger asked, ass fully flush against the man's clothed hips. The man didn't reply, simply snapped his hips back and forth a few times to get the younger to shut up effectively. There was a grip at the base of the dick in front of the man, effectively cutting off any chance of cumming the younger had. "I am going to pound you til you scream," the man whispered brutally, ice in the tone.

"Good luck" was the last thing Dante could get out before the man began to act out his words, thrusting hard into the bound body. There was a pain in his core that the younger couldn't describe, but there was also something hotter and wilder building up behind it, eventually overshadowing the pain and causing him to pull at his restraints. Whatever he would do, he would not make a sound for the other man.

"Stubborn brat," the man said, snapping his hips upwards until the flesh filling the other hit the same bundle of nerves that had made him into an honest man for the time being. The gasp exploded from behind clenched teeth as sweat began beading against pale skin, dampening dark hair against his forehead. The hand around his cock didn't move for even as second as forced pleasure kept building with nowhere to go inside the victim. Dante had to let the pressure off somehow, moaning with it unconsciously. Slowly, he began to become unaware of his own actions; the feeling of the lust building in his body, undoing his tenacity. Much to the man's pleasure, the groans, moans and sudden deep gasps escalated as time went on, turning into loud, rushed strings of curses and indignations to the man's mother. The assailant only chuckled, his own lust for the younger in check, though slipping out of his control. But he had the upper hand in the scenario, the hand around the dick finally pumping its slickened flesh.

"Oh, you..." he swallowed back a cry, "Goddamned jack hole," Dante grunted out before any other insults were melted into loud sounds of sheer bliss, eventually escalating up to the long awaited scream of his orgasm.

The man smirked in amusement as the insides of the younger tensed up around him, causing the man to spill while inside the body with a few grunts of satisfaction. "There, now isn't it better to comply with the wishes of others instead of always having to go against them?"

Voice raw from the encounter, Dante still mumbled, "Fuck you." The man pulled out of and away from the bound man, spent seed leaking from the abused hole. In fact, the encounter left the younger's body practically vibrating with the orgasm. "For the record, you suck as a rapist."

The man didn't verbally reply, just left the dark haired male covered in his own cum, more dripping out of his body mixed with the tiniest hint of blood. The nondescript human would let the captive go, though not until the word was given. After all, he still wasn't done making the rebellious younger regret a thing.


End file.
